


and the road is as wet as the sea

by Ahigheroctave



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Sleeping Beauty (1959)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Female Friendship, Gen, Implied Relationships, Nightmares, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 12:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/639025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahigheroctave/pseuds/Ahigheroctave
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When all those shadows almost killed your light,  I remember you said, "Don't leave me here alone" but all that's dead and gone and passed tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and the road is as wet as the sea

**Author's Note:**

> While watching the new OUAT on Hulu this morning, this line struck me: “Rip my heart out, kill me like you did Milah and then I’ll finally be reunited with her.” And thus this happened, so I apologize. Also, this is not Beta'd so be warned.

“You lost her too,” She says quietly, meeting his eyes. He might be able to hide it from the others, with proclamations about his black, rotten heart, but she can see the truth. The truth is he has a heart, she can see it bleeding in the blue of his eyes. He has had it plunged into the an ocean of grief, so deeply clouded and cold that it can hardly be felt over the rising surge of anger, but it is there. Emma believes it is not because he believes it so deeply himself. He is a pirate, so he plunders and pillages the hope and faith of others to make him feel better, but he cannot escape the pain. His heart is broken and beaten and bruised, just like hers. And there is only one thing that can cure a broken heart.

She presses her lips to his cheek.

:…:

She slipped back through the portal.

She was practically pushed. Mulan stood behind her, sword drawn, shouting orders. Her dark hair fanned out behind her and her tan skin slicked with sweat. The flurry of magical dust kicking up behind them as the three fairies attempted to protect her, as they always had and always would, from Maleficent. The Wraith’s medal was so hot upon her chest from the flames she could practically feel it, feel Phillip beating onto her chest. She was not sure whether she was shoved or if she fell, but the next thing she knew she was kneeling on an empty paved road, wet with rain.

It was silent and clear and she saw only one thing as she pushed herself upright: A white sign with the big black letters “Welcome to Storybrooke” engraved upon it.

:…:

Her stumble into town was a blur.

There was a girl in red head-to-toe. Someone shouted and her dress ripped as she tripped over her own feet in surprise. A soothing voice, so familiar, and a flash of golden blond hair mixed with the cooing sounds of a baby. The one thing she was sure of was a pair of arms lifting her from the cool ground, carrying her away from the sea of the people until their incessant murmuring became just a low wave of murmurs behind her.

“What are you doing?” She remembered asking, but her eyes could not focus on the face above her, so instead she let her head fall slack behind her instead.

“I thought you were accustomed to being rescued, princess,” An arm moved under her neck and she caught a flash of white teeth. And that was when she fell asleep again.

:…:

She woke upon the desk of the Sherriff’s office sometime later.

“She’s awake,” A voice gasped, so familiar and comforting. “Aurora,” Someone shook her arm, “Aurora, wake up. You’re safe now, we’ve got you. Please wake up.” Snow came into focus and she smiled up at the other woman. Her heart burst with warmth and security, as she looks up at her pale face and her delicate features. She was so beautiful and pure, it hurt Aurora’s faint heart to look at her for too long.

“Why was I asleep?” She had asked in a practical whisper, though she had not meant it to come out that way. Her throat had been so dry and prickly; it had hurt her fuzzy, swollen tongue to speak at all.

“We don’t know,” Another voice cut in, and Emma came into her line of view. “You just showed up in the middle of town, at the worst possible time.” She and Snow shared a look, her mother seemingly warning her not to start. “Sorry,” Emma stated half-heartedly, crossing her arms over her chest. “It just didn’t help much with everyone dying to go back home.”

Her head was cloudy enough and she didn’t have any idea what the other woman was talking about. She raised a heavy hand and attempted to push her hair out of her face, instead it mostly ended up resting on her forehead.

“How did you get here?” Snow’s eyebrows were furrowed, her lips pursed. And Emma sat behind her, patiently waiting for the same answer. “We closed the portal.”

Aurora gave her a thin smile, “Magic.”

:…:

Solving Phillip’s curse had proven to be more difficult than she had hoped. It seemed the only person in town acquainted with the Wraith was Rumpelstiltskin, and he was too preoccupied with retrieving Belle’s memory and wallowing to be of much help. Emma has given her a very brief summary of the man’s misfortune at the hands of Hook, and his loss of his son, and she couldn’t really blame him. The man had been stripped of so much hope in one, low and sinister, blow. She tried to smile and greet him graciously in the event he stumbled her way, even though he seldom returned the favor.

She fell into a job at the diner, where she was neither needed nor helpful, courtesy of Ruby. “Have you tried True Love’s kiss?” Ruby smirked one night as they were closing up after a town meeting. She was clearing dishes off tables and Aurora was attempting to wipe them down, but really just leaving them dirtier than they were to begin with. “I hear it’s a hell of a cure.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” She rolled her eyes, throwing her rag at the other girl. They laughed and it became somewhat of a disaster, ketchup bottles squirting at each other and somehow a scrap of apple pie had become lodged in her hair.

Grandma Lucas stood in the door and heaved a deep sigh. Ruby just giggled while Aurora turned approximately the same shade of red as a tomato. “I’m glad to see I’m getting my money’s worth with you girls.”

“Aw, Grams, you’ll always get more bang for your buck with me.”  The princess couldn’t help snorting in laughter, clutching her stomach as she doubled over. Grams just shook  her head and walked back through the archway.

:…:

For the hundred years straight she had slept, she hadn’t dreamt.

It had not been a sleep really, so much as a delay of aging. The curse had not been very good, in theory, but its malfunction had been torturous. She could feel every moment she’d lain on the cold pedestal in the Sands, heard every silence as she waited to be saved. As she waited for Phillip, she had no idea how much time was passing. She had no way to keep track of the minutes and days that had elapsed, leaving her still alone with her thoughts. There was so much time to regret her foolishness, her weakness, her gaping selfishness. All of this non-existence, she sat awake and cursed herself. She had thought it would be romantic, falling asleep and waking to True Love’s Kiss, because love triumphed over all.

She had failed to consider her parents, who would not be included in this lazy, half-planned enchantment, and were somewhere dying without her there. She should have held their hands as they grew old, whispering how much she loved them and how their rule had made the whole kingdom better. The whole world better. Instead they died mourning her, the daughter they’d lost. And she thought of Lady Anne, who she had known since her girlhood, who would get married and have children and grandchildren, who she would never see again. And it was all her own fault.

This is the part of the story no-one else knows: Aurora had pricked her finger by choice, not by spell. She had been happy to welcome the release of the strings her life was always contingent on. Before the sun sets on her sixteenth birthday, she shall prick her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel and fall into a deep sleep, from true love’s kiss this spell shall break.

Maleficent is an idiot if she thinks she had succeeded in the curse, when really Aurora had cursed herself.

:…:

 Her mother was beautiful in all the ways Aurora is not.

Aurora was blessed with her beautiful soft skin, her ice blue eyes, and her shining chestnut hair the same way she learned to dance gracefully without practice: Magic. Briar Rose had the voice of a songbird, the gleaming yellow hair of the sun, and the slow, small smile of a girl is loved for who she is. She had been cunning and resourceful enough to escape her curse, where as her vapid daughter had fallen into hers.

She would not make this same mistake again.

:…:

When she awakened from her hundred years of sleep, she did not dream.

Instead, there are nightmares. First of the flames, engulfing her so fully that she cannot breathe through all the ash and smoke and embers. Then later of Phillip, his soft promises from the forest rang in her ears and his bravery weighed deeply upon her chest, until she awakened in chokes and gasps for air. She does not sleep much, after that, but instead plays lookout while others rest.

When she got to Storybrooke, she was so deeply tired. She curled up in the room she rented at the boarding house, the same one she traded her diadem for. The bed was held up by thin metal rods, which creaked every time she turned, and the mattress was so thin and bony, it seems to poke every piece of her spine as she lay. When she finally falls asleep, it is hard earned and welcomed and at first dreamless.

After a while, she heard a voice in the vast blackness, summoning her. “Princess,” It called, quietly. “Princess,” It echoed more loudly as she feigned ignorance. “I am supposed to protect you.” Mulan, her heart sped up, following in the direction of the voice. “Princess.” She leapt towards it, running in the darkness. “We are almost there, Princess, try to keep up.” A faint glow filled the air, flashing in and out. Aurora moved towards it, hesitantly. It became brighter and brighter, until she came face-to-face with her own red, glowing heart.

“A heart-for-a-heart, Princess,” Mulan’s voice was gone, filled with a teasing tone so familiar she could picture the small smirk that went with it. “My debt is repaid.”

She awoke clutching at her own chest, her hands neatly protecting that area in the middle of her ribcage. She looked down and bit her lip. She immediately pushed herself up, grabbing for her robe.

:…:

For the first time in her life, her grace comes in handy. Not a single board creaks as she makes her way onto the docks, or tiptoes onto the planks of his ship. It is not hard to find his quarters, they sit at the very top of the boat, with little sea windows overlooking the ocean. They are not as fair as she expected, instead furnished modestly with a single cot and a functional desk, maps and books spread upon it. He lies sideways on the cot, turned towards his wall, as she approaches. She sucks in her breathe and leans over him, she is forced to lean her stomach against his bare arm to allow her arm the right angle. She is reaching into his chest when lays her eyes upon his bedside table. There is a thin black leather journal resting there, sealed with a thin band. She moves her other hand toward it, accidently pushing it off the counter. The pages spill open upon the floor, many scraps of paper falling out.

Her other palm is resting upon his heart, feels its skin pulsing against her fingertips. Her eyes graze over the mess, when a picture catches them. It is Hook, but a different one than she has known. His eyes sparkle as he wraps an arm around a woman, beautiful but older. Her hair is spilled in messy, frizzy waves, and she smiles as she puts a hand upon her hip. She is dressed in a corset, her breasts pushed up nicely, and a heavy necklace settled upon her neck. This is not the woman who was married to the village coward. This is not the woman who was kidnapped by pirates against her will who Rumpel paints stories of, deprived of her husband and son and her life. This woman is happy.

Her hand lightly clamps down without her intention and there is a gasp next to her. “What in the bloody-” Her eyes are drawn up and she pulls her hand towards her, bringing his heart with him. This shuts him up, his mouth opens wide and his body shakes.

“A heart-for-a-heart,” She says quietly, holding it towards her as it pulses in the moonlit cabin. His lips go into a thin line and his whole body goes rigid, his jaw pulses as his teeth grind together and his eyes narrow at her. “I would think you’d understand, being a pirate and all.”

She expects him to lunge at her, to fight her for it and to threaten to slit her neck with his pointy hook that he liked so much to make puns about. Instead, he rolled over onto his back and stared at the sealing, “You know, Princess, of all the people here I expected to put an end to my misery, you were not one of them.” She stares at him a moment, so careless in his bed which he has made for himself. He rests his good arm behind his head. She realizes his hook isn’t even on; instead his stump rests soundly against his leg.

He looks up at her, eyes piercingly blue in the dark. “Go on then,” He gestures towards it, “Give her a squeeze. It only takes one.”

She looks at the heart, red and beating in her little hand. It is barely bigger than her first, covered with little black spots throughout it, and it seems slightly inflated, possibly because all of the rum, but it is undoubtedly human. She tries desperately to imagine crushing it slowly, her fingers closing in on it as he rolled in agony in front of her.

She is not her mother, but she also is not Cora. She cannot do this sort of thing and live with it.

Instead, she leans in slowly towards him and he looks up at her in confusion. She reaches into his chest, feeling around for the correct spot with one hand and balances his organ steadily in her other. She bites her lip and plunges it back in quickly, trying not to notice the way the thumping elevates against her hand. She tries not to feel the way her own heart beats faster in return. She pulls her hand out, and turns her back, trying to regain her composure, but her breathing betrays her as it pushes from her mouth, too jagged and fast to be calm.

“Why?” Is all she hears in response, desperate and low. “I’m a monster, everyone else knows it. A heartless, vindictive pirate who’s outlived his welcome. Ask, ask Emma, ask Snow, they all know.” She turns to him and his eyes seem to glow in the dark, so desperate and confused. They are dying for a release that will not come. “Why won’t you kill me? That’s what they all want.”

“You lost her too,” She says quietly, meeting his eyes. He might be able to hide it from the others, with proclamations about his black, rotten heart, but she can see the truth. The truth is he has a heart, she can see it bleeding in the blue of his eyes. He has had it plunged into the an ocean of grief, so deeply clouded and cold that it can hardly be felt over the rising surge of anger, but it is there. Emma believes it is not because he believes it so deeply himself. He is a pirate, so he plunders and pillages the hope and faith of others to make him feel better, but he cannot escape the pain. His heart is broken and beaten and bruised, just like hers. And there is only one thing that can cure a broken heart.

She presses her lips to his cheek.

:…:

She begins helping Archie, it’s a better fit than the diner ever was. She would never be more than satisfactory at cleaning, and never able to keep from burning people’s orders. And it turns out most of Storybrooke, like her, are dealing with loss. The reason most of them are so desperate to get back to the Enchanted Forest because half-of-them still have loved-ones left behind there. Gaston, since Belle left him, had apparently fallen in love with one of Cinderella’s ugly stepsisters, then had gotten lost behind the border. Jasmine and Aladdin had ended up separated, and Jasmine had been living as Jade who ran the Storybrooke Animal Shelter. And surprisingly enough, Emma had a lot of unresolved issues with both Henry’s father and the former Sheriff that she hadn't felt comfortable talking to Archie or Snow about. However, they’d become blaringly obvious once Neal had shown up in town with Rumpelstiltskin.

Of course, he’d introduced him as his long-lost son, Baelfire.

“Miss Rose,” She looked up from her little desk in what had been the Utility Closet until she’d come along. Archie stood before her, smiling. “You have a,” He cleared his throat, looking over his shoulder. “A visitor.”

“Hello Killian,” She smiled to herself, still looking down at the chart in front of her.

“Princess,” He moved past Archie and perched at the corner of the desk, dropping a paper bag in front of her. “Brought you a cup of cheddar and broccoli soup and a slice of Grandma’s warm-baked apple pie.” He raised his eyebrows at her, a smirk playing at his lips, “Ruby also sent you her love but I’ll wait until Archie stops eavesdropping to give you that gift.”

“I cannot wait,” She drawled, reaching for the package. Hook had been a natural fit at the diner, being that he’d worked his way up as a pirate by serving as the kitchen scab. That and he was the only one in town who could out-innuendo Ruby.

“Also, Belle’s got some idea on how we can get Mulan here without a portal,” He smirked, opening his own sandwich: Pastrami and cheese on rye with a pickle spear. “Turns out the girls had some sort of sordid affair before she teamed up with Phillip dearest.”

She doubted very much that Mulan had ever had any sort of affair with anyone, except maybe Phillip, but she had tried her best to push that out of her mind. Her friend had done too much for her to hold grudges like that. It was nice to see that Belle had forgiven him though, even if Rumpelstiltskin probably never would. And it being Belle, it was pretty much guaranteed there was no black magic involved in Mulan's transport.

“What did she say about the Wraith and the Medallion?” She watched his face cloud at the words and he looked down at his meal, his eyes no longer dancing.

“She has to do more research,” He always got sour when she brought Phillip up, as if he’d misunderstood the terms of their hesitant friendship. “She originally suggested we try True Love’s Kiss.” Their eyes met for a moment, blue-on-blue and this time she looked away. “Everyone thinks we’re a bit daft.”

“Well you certainly are,” She smiled, picking up her spoon. He attempted not to look proud of her. “I don’t expect it to happen overnight.”

She was doing the saving this time, and she was going to do it her way.

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of stole a lot of the basis for Aurora's mother from the 1959 Sleeping Beauty film, as most of you could probably tell. Also, Aurora's beginning line in the story is semi-stolen from Friday Night Bites in the Vampire Diaries, which may be one of my favorite all-time Damon/Elena friendship moments.


End file.
